


Cinnamon and a Heart Shaped Box of Chocolate

by ghostegg



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Kissing, Awkward meeting, Cupcake Fairyville, M/M, awkward office romance, everything is embarrassing, gay pining, hospital au, nurse/receptionist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:57:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostegg/pseuds/ghostegg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too short, too fluffy, and too much General awkwardness (who knew)<br/>Where Jean is a hospital receptionist and Marco is the freckled nurse who's too good for Jean to even look at</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinnamon and a Heart Shaped Box of Chocolate

The daily grind of the office was pretty easy to handle by now.  
Pick up the phone, take down information, continue to work on the note taking skills.  
It was not a hard job. At this point, Jean Kirschstein was the only hospital office worker who had clearly legible handwriting. The older women who worked with him were great considering the rush at times, but he was pretty sure that the only reasons that he still had this job now were his actual secretarial skills with consistent and timely filing.  
All of the phone numbers he took down were always correct. He had penciled in the right appointments on the calendar so far, and he always but the caps back on the pens so they didn't dry out. Surprisingly, people had even begun to count on him for making a decent pot of coffee. Imagine that.  
Sure, it wasn't the office job that he had in mind when he first went into the work/temp agency, but a job was a job. He would find things to like about it as time passed.  
That and things never got real slow in a hospital ward, fortunately. People were always coming to see their friends and family. Thank god it was a fairly small hospital so it was easy to know the regulars now. The only downside for the moment was the cold air from wind that breezed through the sliding doors at every given moment.  
He was glad that he had worn his favorite warm sweater now - the one with the corduroy elbow patches - which provided just enough heat to shield him form the icy blast.  
Jean glanced around the more-then-half full waiting room and nodded to himself, it would probably be a early night. They had been cutting his hours because he was the newest receptionist and they were having trouble scheduling. It sort of sucked that he couldn't be there to the actual scheduled time, but between finally having a decent paying, steady job and getting to people watch now as a profession, Jean was not going to complain.

The time on the seventeen year old Macintosh said 3:28 pm. Jean had already taken his break so all he had to do was continue doing the same collection of insurance policies, scheduling the postal drop-offs, eavesdropping on the chatter from the can't-be-bothered-to-care regulars and new arrivals.  
He propped his head into his hand and looked out at the older lady self-consciously texting on her smartphone. She seemed to be adjusting her already in-place hair and replying to a Facebook comment all at once as she herself surveyed the waiting area. That was fucking hilarious.  
It wasn't long before the printer ran a couple sheets behind him and he heard a now familiar sigh.  
"Jean, are you sure that you put aside those charts for Dr. Carmichael?" Jean half nodded, aware that his older coworker stood behind his swivel chair, waiting for more acknowledgement from him. He answered while still watching as his fascinating subject crossed her legs right, only to recross left twenty seconds later.  
"I put them in his outgoing box as soon as they were checked in this morning." Barbara's dusty smelling floral scent got closer as she leveled her head and followed his line of sight.  
"See anything you like yet?" She breathed somewhat asthmatically, chuckling as she grabbed the sheet in front of him and scanned it. Jean closed his eyes as he tried to come up with something that didn't sound embarrassed, and also communicated that he knew knew his coworker was joking around with him.  
"Maybe I have." He replied lamely as he turned in the chair to face her. Or was it, will, want to, someday?  
She smiled and nodded, "oh sure." Jean shrugged, uncaring, and turned back to the computer at the electronic tone of an email being received. Barbara shuffled around behind him as she got ready to leave the enclosed space. "One of Dr. Carmichael's nurses is just on their way down to grab that patient's file. If you could let them know about the payment plan that was finally accepted, and that we already heard from the provider about the coverage options, just in case they haven't heard yet?"  
"I will. " As Barbara shuffled out, Jean went right back to people watching.  
He decided that it wasn't the early morning shifts that really got him - it was the lack of sincerity when people said thank you. The way that they felt a hospital waiting room of all places was somewhere to continue whatever petty drama they had at the time.  
Jean knew that there would have to be somebody who felt the same way he did about people. About waiting for so long. About being lonely. The sleepy boredom of work almost promised something better for that feeling. Right now, all he knew was how much he desperately wanted to see something he liked.

It only took twenty minutes of reassuring the patient's father that they still had to fill out the chart if they wanted to get in anytime soon.  
"Sir, if we can't build the chart and have the medical history then your child can't be seen right now. " After about three of those minutes a small knock and a vague not-Barbara-smell had entered the cubicle. Somebody asked if he could quickly go over Carmichael's patient files.  
The nurse.  
Jean struggled for coherent words as he tried to talk to both of them at once while looking at the man who didn't understand the concept of forms, then settled for, "give me a minute for those charts."  
"Yeah, I'll be back then." The nurse presumably left after that.  
The man staring in front of him did not. He was obviously indignant at Jean's response but still holding the paperwork and blue courtesy pen as if knowledgeable that at some point he was going to have to answer the questions before shoving it back through the divider window, but not excepting of it.  
"Alright, but I gave you my insurance card so that means you already found us in the system, correct?"  
Jean nodded, "Yes, but if we don't know what happened to your son before you came in, then the doctor won't see him." At this point the conversation was just going on too long. There was a small line which kept sending him tired looks around toward him as the man in front grimaced back at him.  
"Fine, sure. I told you what happened, now maybe you could just explain to a nurse or someone with some medical knowledge and we can just get on with the process a little quicker."  
Jean leaned back in his chair. "Well, as soon as you fill out the sheet, then you'll be all set to talk to a professional."  
The man gave in abruptly and walked away in a curt but thankfully, finally, resigned manner. Jean did feel a little smug.  
"Nicely handled." Carmichael's nurse was back again with a warm congratulations. The male nurse, Jean's brain registered quickly as he glanced straight at up at him. How long after he had left the first time did he come back? That, and from what Jean had seen in a quick study, he was pretty hot.  
The not-Barbara smell was there again, something sort of spice tinted. Hmm.  
The next person looked at him too expectantly. "Did you get your paperwork?" She shook her head as Jean gave her the standard form and took down her card information.  
There were only three easy check-ins after that - all while Dr. Carmichael's good-smelling male nurse waited right behind him. Jean could hear the short hum of his rhythmic breathing now.  
As the paperwork was stacked and Jean watched the family members file back to their seats, he pushed himself up from the chair.  
"Hey, now that you're not busy, I just needed the info...?"  
Jean looked down into big brown eyes.  
"Yes. Right. The sheets." He pointed to the counter where they been sitting, realizing as he moved his eyes away from male-nurse's, that the files had gone. His eyes slid back in a panic. "These?" There was a little smile right on the others face as he held them up and Jean could only nod and spit out phrases.  
"They're covered by the insurance group up until the 24th of next year." In the face of cinnamon-spice Personified, Jean could feel his face get hot almost immediately.  
"And the premiums are the same as the ones they had before so there should be no issue."  
Didn't nurses wear name-tag? His scrubs were that weird green/aqua and he was slightly shorter then Jean. Dark wavy hair framed his face right past his ears.  
"That's good, I didn't see anything about the representatives contact though, do you have that somewhere in here?"  
Jean felt like throwing up a little.  
"Maybe? I thought those numbers were in the back." He let his eyes fall all over the freckles speckling the other's face in a ribbon which wound over the bridge of a short, rounded nose and spread lightly down his neck.  
"Sure, sure." Cinnamon-nurse nodded and flipped through all the pages as Jean awkwardly stood by, contemplating just how the fuck was he going to get his name.  
The nurse looked up and smiled, too sharp and bright in the already fluorescent lighting.  
"Thanks," He held out a hand to shake as Jean stared blankly.  
"Jean, right? I'm Marco."  
"Nice to meet you." He hope that was what it sounded like. Marco wedged the thick file in between his arm and side, still smiling.  
"Hopefully I can get charts this well put together again." Jean tried to laugh in agreement but only coughed dryly, "I'll be here?"  
A short look of confusion passed Marco's face as he processed the question "Oh, will you?" Jean stumbled again, "Probably?"  
Marco nodded, graciously accepting the offered fragments with only the slightest eyebrow raise. "Well, I look forward to working with you."  
He bobbed his head up with a larger smile, and turned to go. Jean managed a meager "yeah, me too" before he was alone again in the suddenly too warm room.

Jean spent the rest of the day processing the other files and taking phone calls, and thinking about the freckles on Marco the nurse's face. And the ones that spread onto the back of his hands out of the long sleeve under his scrubs, and most likely everywhere else too. Jean pulled at his own sleeves, tugging the bit of extra fabric over his cold hands as his leg shook against the desk. It had only been a week and a half since he started working there, but it didn't stop him from wondering if he had seen Marco in the halls before, and just never noticed. Maybe because they had met now, they would see each other more often. He certainly hoped so.

It was four days later, and Jean was getting ready to leave for the night. He said goodbye to Vicky, and left the reminder sticky note on the edge of the monitor explicitly stating to not schedule him for the fourteenth. Again.  
He had already let them know two weeks in advance that he had plans and they said all he had to do was leave the note for the last shift he was in and that it would be done before the weekend. Good. He clicked the shut off button on the desktop, hoping the save error wouldn't come up for the third time that week.  
Everybody knew they needed a new computer system but they definitely weren't going to do anything about it, so he sighed and watched as the shutdown loading sequence started to stick and repeat. The first sign that this wasn't a bad thing about tonight was the faint humming. Then the light cologne, or deodorant? Jean didn't know yet, but he did know that the smell was Marco, at least probably.  
"You're still here?" It felt good to be right about something.  
It was friendly sounding, like he sort of wanted to talk with him. Jean pushed lightly away from the desk and started to his feet as Marco paged through some stray papers.  
"I was just about to leave actually." He kind of wished he didn't have to now. Marco put the papers down again and crossed his arms over his chest as Jean tried not to stare at the way his scrub shirt tightened at the sleeve around the top of his bicep. It looked really good bunched up like that.  
"The computer is just slow, haha." He could feel the fake-hollow laugh buzz from his throat as if he had to justify still being there. But being there was a great thing that was happening because Marco was also there, smiling, and talking to him.  
"Yeah, they're always like that - we just need new systems all around." Jean nodded awkwardly as he mirrored the other, crossing his own arms unconsciously. Seconds later, Marco dropped his to his sides and the little scrunch of fabric around the muscles in his shoulder flattened out again. That was disappointing.  
"You're in this weekend right? I have a couple files that I think that you could sort out really well. And Dr. Pete is going to be in on Sunday so you know what a mess that will be." He rolled his eyes at that like it was an inside joke between them. It was an inside joke, but Jean didn't know anybody named Dr. Pete and he was going to be off that day. Had requested that day off specifically so that there wasn't a chance of him being in. Fuck.  
Marco looked over at the other receptionist on duty, then back at Jean as if contemplating the current situation.  
"But maybe I'll see you then? You 'll be here on V-day?" Jean nodded again, even more weakly then the first time he had seen Marco. He called Valentines Day V-day which Jean was sure had to be a small favor from somebody to him. "You will."  
"Cool."  
Marco looked expectant now, "It'd been nice to have somebody who is fun to be around." He hugged the sheets of paper to his chest happily as he started to shift on his feet. Jean shrugged, "Valentine's Day is overrated anyway right?" Haha, sure. He shouldn't have said that.  
Marco's smile got wider, "yeah." That was when Jean knew that he would have to get his shift back for Sunday the fourteenth, Valentine's Day, whether he really wanted it or not. Marco looked pleased as he started to back away.  
"Guess it's a selfish guarantee that I won't be alone, huh?"  
"Oh? I guess it is." If this was a selfish act, then Jean wasn't going to say anything to ruin whatever would happen before it started.  
Satisfied that he had communicated to the now distraught Jean everything about the upcoming Valentine's Day plans, Marco slipped out of the reception office with a "C'ya" and a friendly wave. Jean flopped a hand goodbye as he realized what was going on.  
Then he just slumped back into the chair and peeled the sticky note off the monitor. He had to get on the phone again as soon as possible. The real reason that he had wanted it off so badly was indeed a case of self-pity, but if the cute nurse was going to act like he wanted to be there with him, then Jean could give up the loathing for a while. Probably.  
Sighing, he folded the note so that it stuck to itself. Then he folded it five more times until it was a little purple square. Jean dropped the reminder into the trash and picked up the receiver to make a call. Within forty minutes he had a schedule for Sunday the fourteenth from four pm, to two in the morning. It was going to be a long ass shift, but having Marco there was going to be worth it.

One thing that was good about the lowly receptionist position is that he still got to wear whatever he wanted. Thankfully there were no uniforms this time for this the job. It was the night of thirteenth, and Jean had spent a good half-an-hour looking through his closet for something that communicated he could dress up for a semi-date at work, while still remaining a well-behaved professional. It wasn't going to be a big deal, but if Marco continued to flirt, then Jean might as well try to receive it while looking nice.  
He needed to look casual. But not too casual.  
What color was good to wear for being asked out so low-key on the job? Was wearing red on Valentine's Day too much?  
Aside from not wearing lots of black and dark colors, he didn't have much to go on. Well, only that Jean was sure he didn't look good in yellow. That's what the last boyfriend had tried to tell him too. It probably wasn't true, but as of now, he still had the one butter-yellow deep v-neck stuffed in the way back of the drawer. From last summer. If he still in fact owned the butter-yellow v-neck. Maybe. He couldn't remember if he gotten rid of it after that going-nowhere relationship left him or not. He dug around some less plunging necklines in different shades of gray and black before pausing mid shuffle. First dates probably don't get that one yellow shirt right away, he decided quickly. That must be a second date type of thing. Or, maybe even a only after you reach-second-base even. Besides, it was too cold for just a sweater and and a t-shirt. It 's not sensible, he convinced himself.  
It could be that you never brought out the yellow shirt if you wanted a relationship at all.  
Yellow was just for caution signs and cupcake frosting leftover at Walmart from Easter. Not for sunny days and little flecks of shimmering gold in big brown eyes, right?  
Right? Wrong. Or right.  
Jean sighed. He didn't want to overthink everything. He made up his mind to just dress nicer because it seemed that somebody was finally into him. Which in itself was sort of fucking weird, but he couldn't stop smiling at how directed at him the filing compliments were. How Marco smiled whenever he they agreed on something.  
He closed the drawer and walked to the bathroom where he started to shave the sharp stubble from his face. The warm water started to relax him as he imagined how charming and funny he could be when he saw Marco tomorrow.  
Jean wiped the towel over his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. It was going to feel like a long night.  
Jean hung the towel back up on the rack and flipped off the light switch. As he walked to bed he thought that he still didn't know Marco that well, only that he liked him. And wanted to know him better. After pushing back the sheets and climbing into the cold bed, Jean clicked of the bedside lamp. There, laying in the dark he thought about how Marco looked good in his blue/green/aqua scrubs. And probably those heavy colors, like strong maroons, browns and greens.  
The dark, deep jewel toned fall shades. Jean turned on his side and decided to be honest about the point as he closed his eyes.  
Marco would look good in any fucking color of the rainbow that he ever chose to wear.

Jean paged through the staff email again. It was now officially the boring time of the night.  
There was only so much Starbucks he could drink in the space of a single time period, but he had pushed that limit off a cliff by now.  
He had seen Marco in the hallway as he ran a file up to a doctor almost an hour ago, but he knew that Marco had been too busy to see him.  
Life was unfair.  
It was 9:16 pm and the rush of people visiting their unwell loved ones had dribbled down to just the boyfriend who arrived triumphantly, but in a rush with red and white roses tastefully arranged and complimented by sparse baby's breath and bright green ferns. The shiny metallic heart shaped chocolate selection tucked under his arm cast a reddish glow on the dividing glass while he barely stopped to confirm the room number for his cherished beloved.  
Truly, it was young love at it's finest.  
Jean had scanned the man, who was dressed pretty nicely himself. It was obvious that he was going to impress his girlfriend who had just had surgery on her torn rotator-cuff. And he wasn't that bad looking either, Jean had admitted to himself as a musty cologne wafted throughout the waiting room.  
He sent the man away with a nod as he slumped back down into the swivel chair without sufficient lumbar support.  
Alright, so, he was a a trace bitter about Valentine's Day. And how hot Dr. Carmichael's nurse Marco was. Is. Continues to be. If he got to see him tonight anyway.  
Jean was so bitter about always being the dumped and not the dumper, and having not gotten any for months, and feeling locked in a cycle of I-like-him but he-doesn't-like-me. Doesn't even notice me. Is too busy to talk to me.  
It all needed to fucking end already.  
He admitted to himself that he was just being impatient. Marco had never promised him anything of course, and he was already predisposed to be touchy about what he settled on calling a small crush. It wasn't even clear if Marco was into him, or even guys in general. Maybe he was just being nice all the time.  
That seemed just as likely too.  
Jean heard a little squeak on the linoleum outside the door and a short answer to the self depreciating monologue.  
"You're here!" Marco sounded so...excited?  
"Hey." He was going to be able to keep it together. Had to.  
"Long day so far?"  
Marco squinted up his eyes, which was adorable by itself, but the little half-sigh that joined it was even better. He then rolled his eyes as Jean just nodded a little, "Fucking ridiculous." His scrubs were all white today.  
Jean miraculously smiled back, "Crazy how people like to be with their significant other on the day of love."  
Marco twisted his head sideways a little, like he wasn't sure exactly how to answer that, or if it had an answer.  
"Oh, yeah." It got quiet and Jean had to fill it.  
"So, relationships...haha, those are weird anyway." There were definitely worse things that he could have said, but it really wasn't the easy, breezy response that he had meant.  
Marco nodded. "I thought nobody would ever say that? Jesus, it's been a whole cupid's gala everywhere I go, and it's beginning to get right on my last nerve."  
He laughed a little sadly which made Jean feel sort of horrible but also like he was getting to know him even better. This was progress and Jean felt like he was floating off of something.  
Marco shrugged, "I had heard you actually got today off from Karen in HR and thought you were bailing on me though."  
The shine was back, a little smirk caught right on the edge of his pouted bottom lip. Jean didn't know a lot, but he knew that he wanted to kiss Marco right there in the doorway.  
"No!" He coughed, there was no backing out of it now, but just go lightly, soft touch it. "I just had something come up earlier, but then it wasn't a big deal and I needed the hours." Smooth. "Well, that and couldn't leave you hanging alone with Dr. Pete." Jean had asked around and apparently the guy was sort of an asshole. At least he was in on the inside reference now. The other seemed to see that as a legitimate reason, so Jean settled back, getting more comfortable as Marco moved from at the doorway to inside it, sticking out his chin a little so that the 1/2 inch or so of beard growth glinted in the light.  
His hair was medium brown, but his facial hair had a reddish tint, and Jean was already starting to wonder how it would feel to pushed against his own face.  
Jean didn't want to shatter the moment, "did it just get a lot slower up there?"  
Too late, ruined  
"Nah, I'm on my break." Marco raised his eyebrows and slid to the other chair next to Jean. "Also I sort of wanted to see if Karen was pulling my leg or not." He scooted in the chair a little. "It's nice that she wasn't."  
"That's good."  
Marco sat down and adjusted the leg distance. Jean loved how his body was the same size as his leg length which was on the short side, but it made his ass look even better. Fuck, fuck. He was so goddamn fucked over this nurse.  
Happy with the leg to ground distance now that his feet could reach the floor, Marco stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles, Jean just swallowed the spit in his mouth loudly.  
"I had a question about something, actually, that's what I really wanted to come see you about. I didn't want to make a big deal about it, but it's sort of critical, y'know?"  
Holy shit.  
Marco scratched at the side of his head lightly, lifting his arms to lock around the back of his neck so the bottom hem of his shirt inched up enough to immediately grab Jean's attention.  
Jean stammered, "Alright, I can try I guess."  
He was over-obviously checking out the thin line between the shirt and the pants were the lighting shone on the smallest bit of fine hair slipping out from the waistband. Golden downy fuzz which no doubt striped down into a full v between his thighs. Those were called happy trails for the most indisputable reason.  
"Jean?" He was going to lose it.  
Marco straightened up his shoulders and sat more rigid, allowing the washed out white fabric to cover his stomach again. "Are you gay or not?"  
He answered without thinking because it was too much to lie about it. "Yes."  
"Thank god." Jean slid back, aware that he had been leaning in closer since Marco sat down.  
"I kept thinking, of-fucking course you got to be, but then you were like, doing some of the stupid shit that straight guys do and I was about to just not even try."  
He was grinning.  
"I thought I was imagining things?"  
Marco closed his eyes, "you weren't."  
Jean nodded back, but of course Marco didn't see that so it was a little useless.  
He squeaked the chair up to the one Marco was sitting, and leaned closer to the edge of his seat again.  
"Can I?"  
Marco opened his eyes as if he knew exactly what was going on.  
"Yeah."  
Jean had forgotten to brush his teeth, but he didn't think about it this time. Of course he had time to shower and put on deodorant and take out the toothpaste, and put it on the counter and then he had the time to just forgot about it. But it didn't matter.  
He leaned in to bring their chairs even closer so that there was a little clack as the plastic edges bumped.  
Marco tasted better then he smelled. There was a warm mint and a sort of sterilizing antiseptic flavor, sour as it tinged onto his tongue.  
True to what Jean knew of his nature, Marco wrapped his stocky hands to the edge of Jean's collar and tugged himself so that both their kneecaps splayed apart at the center.  
"Mhhmm." He couldn't really help how he moaned back into the others mouth with a relieved gratefulness. There it was.  
Receptive and almost too intuitively, Marco bumped up to his chest so that they were as close as they could be while still in the work environment.  
And that wasn't even close enough for Jean right now.  
"I gotta go."  
Jean felt dazed as Marco spoke low and breathy by his neck." 'Kay." He felt like the ambulance had just pulled right into the emergency exit, how that feeling crushed a little bit by his lungs as Marco stepped away from him.  
"You gonna make it?"  
Jean looked up, blinking like he hadn't consumed five tall black coffees just before. "Just want to do more of that when you're done if we can?"  
He was pretty sure what he meant was mostly coherent by the pinkish blush on Marco's face and the smirk which threatened to creep back in.  
"Was hoping to plan on it."  
"Then can we-"  
"I'm done fifteen minutes before you are. Unless I can sneak back for a minute." Jean's eyes watched Marco's lips form each word as he tried to process what the sounds were telling him. "I can only stay for a couple minutes later but for after, do you think we can work that out?" Jean's mind jumped into a imaginary scenario way too fast as he cleared his throat and continued to shiver out of the rest of his kiss-coma, "I can make it happen."  
"Good. Hope that you follow through on this word too, because I want to get out of my scrubs as soon as possible." His eyes dropped down Jean's body and it was obvious that they had gone from more then just simple flirting, he could tell that Marco was blatantly and slowly, checking him out.  
He had to say something now. "Right."  
And then it was just a moment and a promise as Marco fucking winked and tripped off out the doorway.  
Jean gripped at the computer chair armrests and blew out a whole timed breath before he looked at the computer clock again.  
He was pretty sure that this Valentine's Day he was going to see somethings that he would unmistakably like more then the usual couch-pity-party horror movie marathon.  
He tapped the sole of his left shoe against the rough grain on the carpet and willed the electronics to time-jump ahead.

Jean Kirschstein had the best fucking valentine without even having had to buy a red-wrapped heart-shaped box of chocolates.

**Author's Note:**

> a rushed (BETA FORMAT) Jeanmarco for a birthday present (s/o to that one Pisces over there) uwu  
> and also because it was just Valentine's Day and i'm a little bitter abt everything having to do with feelings  
> *edited as of 2/26/2016


End file.
